An Otherworldly Weapon
by HotCrossPigeon
Summary: A Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter crossover. Ed makes a deal with Truth and is sent to another world where he is captured by the Dark Lord. But he'll do anything to get back to his brother; even take on a bunch of cloak-wearing, magic-gabbling idiots with sticks. Hurt/comfort Ed, Magic and Alchemy abound.
1. A Deal With the Devil

_Here we go, a nowhere near original Harry Potter/Fullmetal Alchemist crossover. Forgive me; I just wanted to have a stab at it. There are plenty of amazingly well written stories in this category, so I'm sorry about writing much of the same. Also, shamelessly, I must admit to not having read all of the Harry Potter series (only up to book five) so any inaccuracies on that side of things I can only apologise for. _

_And hey, I've taken huge liberties with the plot anyway. But what is fanfiction for, if not to act as a playhouse for budding authors to wildly throw together a bunch of what ifs and then hide under their desks while the once so perfectly sculpted worlds of brilliant authors clash and collide and explode in a bizarrely ugly fashion?  
Takes place at the end of FMA Brotherhood, fifth Harry Potter. I've never written any Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist before, so feedback would be much appreciated!_

…

_Chapter One: A Deal with the Devil._

…

…

Ed clapped his hands, discharging a blinding flash of alchemical light that fizzed and crackled like threads of blue lightning in the air. And then there he was, standing before The Gate where a white childish figure sat cross-legged, perched on the expanse of white nothingness as if he were floating in midair.

"_Come to see me again so soon, Mr. Alchemist? Do you finally have something to trade for your brother?"_

"Yeah, I've got your payment right here," said Ed unable to hold back a smirk as he brandished his newly acquired flesh right hand to the large ornate stone door standing solidly behind him.

Truth laughed. _"You would give up your alchemy so willingly, little alchemist?"_

Ed thought only of all of the people clamouring him on; of sweet Al and fiery Winry and Granny, of that jackass Mustang and his smirk, of Hawkeye's sharp eyes and Havoc, Fuery, Falman and Breda's steadfast loyalty. Even Hohenheim. Their stupid rotten father with those sad eyes that have seen too much. And finally, of their Mother, with her kind heart and love for her two mischievous boys.

"Who needs Alchemy," he said, "When I have them?"

And he meant it. The smile on his face was the most genuine and happy he had expressed since before that fateful day when they were children, when he and Alphonse's lives were carefree and simple.

"_But you'll be normal."_ Truth prodded, _"Without alchemy you will cease to be special. You shall be worthless; a tiny _little_ insignificant human."_

Ed didn't even bristle at the dreaded word. He stood tall, because he knew, just knew that for once in his life, he was doing completely the right thing. It was his selfishness that had caused all of this mess, and it was his selflessness that would finally set Alphonse free.

"That's all I've ever been," he murmured, his golden eyes soft, "a tiny little insignificant human. I was a fool to think we could bring Mom back, and I've paid for my mistakes. I want my brother, so take my Gate and get the hell outta my life."

Truth grinned his gargantuan white smile full of shimmering teeth. Like a shark before the kill. _"Ha!"_ he laughed, and this time Truth didn't sound like a harmony of oily clamouring voices, he didn't sound contemptuous or mocking, in fact he almost sounded happy. Edward could hear himself echoing in that voice. _"That was the right answer, well done!"_ Truth grinned, _"You have beaten me! You have won Mr. Alchemist."_

Ed grinned, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He knew Al's body was here and he couldn't wait to finally head with him proudly out into the world. The cold suit of armour everyone had loved would be replaced finally with the young kind beautiful boy that Alphonse had always been.

"_But,"_ said Truth, _"I cannot let you take your brother home yet."_

Edward's head snapped up in alarm and that quick anger he was so infamous for sparked in his eyes, "What?" He managed to spit out, clenching his fists. "But I beat you – you just said I -"

"_I am being compassionate, Mr. Alchemist, I know all and see all. A few years from now you will need your alchemy to save the ones you love. It seems cruel of me to promise your brother his body back, when the very thing you used to pay for its safe return, is the very thing you will need to keep it."_

"You're saying that… that I can't give up my alchemy?" Ed grit his teeth, fist coming up threateningly in front of him. He wanted to punch that stupid grin of that bastard's smug face! "After all this time I finally get the right answer and you throw it back in my face! What the hell do you want from me? Haven't we given up enough!"

"_It is unfortunate."_ Said Truth.

Unfortunate! That _Bastard_! He'd give him bloody _unfortunate_. Ed nearly lost it right then and there, he bared his teeth in a growl born from years of pain and hope and endless struggling.

Truth spoke before Ed could put his fury into words, or lunge wildly at the white figure, fists flying, _"I am willing to compromise. No one has beaten me for centuries, nobody has ever had the gall to stand before me so many times, and you have won, little alchemist. I owe you some equivalence. I shall return your precious brother, but you shall not return with him, the laws of equivalent exchange must still be adhered to."_

At the mention of Al, Edward calmed somewhat. Well, the vein in his forehead stopped throbbing, at least. All he had ever wanted was for his little brother to be himself again, to have what Edward had stupidly and carelessly stripped away from him when they were only children.

"Al." He said, bowing his head slightly. All of this was for Al, and if he couldn't give up his alchemy to save his little brother then he would pay whatever other price Truth asked of him."So, come on then, if there's still a way to help Al then what is it?" Edward bit out; this time his golden hair obscured his face, dark golden eyes lowered.

"_We shall make a new deal. I will take away your arm, and restore your automail; this is sufficient to give your brother back his soul."_ Said Truth, calculatingly. Voice back to its cold chime of a hundred voices.

Ed looked at his new hand; the one returned to him by his brother's sacrifice, and clenched his eyes shut. He hated to give back the arm his brother had so lovingly won for him.

Truth continued, leaning on a white hand, his elbow resting on his folded knees. _"Your body, however, is not equivalent to his. You lack two limbs. Not to mention the power it takes to bind a soul to its true form once they have been separated. To balance the equation I shall use you for other purposes. A Job proposal, if you will."_

A job proposal? From Truth? Ed blinked his golden eyes in surprise. He had expected nothing short of being ripped to pieces by those crawling, thieving, snatching dark hands that shot out like black tendrils from the Gate.

"What?" He said, nonplussed. "You want me to run errands for you or something?" he snorted, eyes hard, "Somehow I can't see that happening."

"_The job is this, little alchemist. Instead of keeping you here at the Gate I shall send you to another world, a world where I cannot interfere. This world has its own Gate which deals in something other than alchemy, and this other energy has its own separate rules."_

What a pile of junk, thought Ed, the only rules that matter are those of Equivalent Exchange.

"_All of these Gates are linked despite being separated by worlds, and the demise of one will inevitably cause the downfall of the others. A domino effect; one Gate cannot stand long while another falls. You will go there and save that Gate from crumbling. An alchemist may just act as the catalyst that dark world needs. These are the terms, Mr. Alchemist." _

So Truth wanted to send him to another world. This was starting to sound decidedly iffy. Ed wanted to look up and sneer at the bastard, but he knew that Truth's face would be as expressionless as always, unless you counted the tombstone like teeth pulled apart in a venomous smile. So he didn't raise his head and give Truth the satisfaction of seeing his anger, instead, he stared at his new arm and its soft pale skin and long fingernails, and thought about his brother.

That bastard Truth didn't give a damn about fairness, about how much he and Al had given up for this one moment. How both brothers had suffered so much from one stupid mistake. Edward had learned his lesson the hard way to now that nothing comes without a price. He let his new arm fall back at his side, and clenched his hands into stiff fists. If he was in this other world would he ever get to see Al again?

"You bastard." He bit out angrily. "Haven't we been entertaining enough for you already? Or do you just like to play with our lives like you're some kind of sick puppeteer?"

"_Your feeble attempts to insult me are amusing, little alchemist. Your words have no meaning here. I am being compassionate; I assume you do want to save the lives of those you love? If you assist in the saving of this world for me, I will find this equivalent for your brother's safe return, and send you home."_

"And Al?" Ed lifted his head, golden eyes bright, "Will he be all right? He'll have his body back and his soul, just like we always wanted?"

"_Your brother's soul will be reunited with his body and returned to your world, Mr. Alchemist. I assume we have a deal?"_

Ed grinned. It was a feral grin, anger still running deep in his golden eyes, but the thought of Alphonse, beautiful Alphonse, free from his armour, still alive and happy and – damn, he could finally pet all those kittens he was so fond of, and actually feel them purr instead of tentatively asking his older brother what it felt like, because he couldn't quite remember. He could eat Mrs Hughes' stew, Winry's apple pie, Granny's oat cookies.

And his little brother would finally be his _little_ brother; no longer a towering metal suit evoking fear from strangers, but a kid, a loveable, feeling, laughing, smiling, tumbling in the grass, _kid_.

Ed would do anything for Al; he would cross worlds to finally see his little brother smile again. He stuck out his chin defiantly, golden eyes ablaze.

"Deal. Now give me back my little brother you unfeeling bastard, and at least have the decency to let me say goodbye."

The tombstone toothed grin widened. _"As you wish, Mr. Alchemist."_

…

"Al," he breathed. His little brother was so… so… he made an effort to close his mouth that had fallen open at the sight of his Alphonse, and swallowed to keep tears at bay. He almost didn't trust himself to speak in case this was an illusion, one of those nightmares he was so fond of having, where Alphonse would be returned all smiles and bright eyes only to crumble in Ed's arms, destroyed by those clawing arms of the Gate. "Al," he repeated, his golden eyes shining.

"Brother, I knew you could do it!" Al stood, so thin and pale but with that bright shining grin of his that Ed had known so well once, and almost forgotten. Ed's answering grin was just as wide and he laughed, running to his little brother, all worries suddenly forgotten.

Alphonse was the only thing that had ever really mattered.

"We finally did it!" Al cried, "_You_ finally did it!"

They embraced and Ed found himself not wanting to let go.

Al laughed into his shoulder, breathily. "Brother, you can let me go now, there'll be plenty of time for hugs later!" he giggled.

But Edward couldn't let go, not yet. He was trying to memorise the way Alphonse felt, the smell of his hair, the jubilant lilt of his voice. After all this time, his little brother was himself again. He never wanted to forget this moment; it was the happiest moment of his short disastrous life.

Alphonse, however, could read his brother like an open book. Years of watching and caring for his older brother and years of being stuck in that armour had left Alphonse attentive to every detail, appreciative of the things he still had in life. He picked up on the sudden stiffness of Ed's shoulder pressed against his cheek and the desperation in the arms that clutched his small body close. Alphonse always knew when something was wrong. And something was deathly wrong with Edward.

"… Brother?" he asked tentatively, "What is it?"

"Al, I…" Ed sighed, arms still wrapped protectively around Alphonse, "I'm so proud of you. You'll wait for me, won't you?"

Al stiffened in shock, pulling out of his brother's comforting embrace, the first comfort he had felt in years. "What – what do you mean, brother? You said we'd always come out of this together – you promised me." Alphonse's amber eyes grew wide and fearful; he had never been able to control Ed's brash actions, and now terrible thoughts about what his brother could have done were forefront in his mind. "You _promised_ we'd be together."

Edward felt the hot well of guilt rise up inside him; Alphonse always had the ability to make him feel this way. Whether it was for not letting him keep any stray kittens, or for not looking after himself when he was sick, or for practically selling his soul to the devil to finally see Al reunited with his body. "Hey," he defended hotly, "it's not my fault Al, I swear! I tried to do things right but that bastard Truth tricked me out of it. Alchemy's caused us nothing but heartache and to be honest I - I don't need it, I don't need anything, I just wanted you back."

"You tried to give up your alchemy for me?" Al said, eyes widening in realisation, "Oh brother, I'm not worth all that."

"Of course you are Al!" Ed's eyes flashed with anger, "I would have given up anything, even a couple of inches off my height!"

At that Al smiled.

"But that bastard Truth said I'd need my alchemy later on, so until then I can't give it up. Not even to save you, Al. I'm sorry..." he hung his head, braid hanging loose.

"But brother," it would take a while for Ed to get used to Alphonse's voice without the chiming metallic ring and soft echo to it. He sounded so young. "I don't understand. If Truth's still letting me go, then what did you give up? Why can't you come back with me?"

Ed's eyes softened at Al's sadness. He hated causing his brother pain. "I'll be back, I promise. He's making me do his dirty work for a bit, that's all. Like a job… with pretty lousy hours and a really crummy location… kind of in another world…" He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand; he hated trying to explain things when he barely understood it himself.

"Will it be dangerous?" Alphonse asked sadly, "We only just found each other again brother, I don't want to lose you! There must be something else we can do - we can wait until later. I can stay here at the Gate until you can pay with something else – or Truth could send _me_ there instead -"

Ed shook his head sharply to stop Al's anxious gabbling, golden bangs swaying. "This is a one time deal Al, and if I wait any longer your soul will be lost to The Gate…" Edward had weighed the decision in his mind, and was determined to see it through with no further hurt to his brother. "Besides," he put on a wide grin that didn't reach his eyes, "it'll be a piece of cake, Al. You'll see. I'll be back in no time at all, I promise."

The white world started to fade a little, and Alphonse's sad amber eyes looked washed out. He didn't have long left.

"_Time's up Mr. Alchemist."_ Came the thousands of warring voices; Truth.

"I have to go." Said Edward, bringing his golden eyes to meet his brothers and wanting to say so much to him, but not being able to find the words. So he just hugged Alphonse close again, trying desperately to hold on to his little brother. To him, it seemed as though Alphonse was fading out of his arms. "I love you, Al."

A sniffle in his shoulder, he could barely feel it, "I love you too, brother."

And then there was a tinny ringing sound in his ears, and Alphonse's face grew fainter still, as though he were nothing but a reflection on a foggy window. Even though now their faces were so close that their noses could touch, Edward could barely make out his brother's face anymore, and Alphonse's voice was soft and distant and desperate.

"Brother, _please_, don't leave -"

And then the world fizzled out completely and what was once a blinding white to Edward, was dark and empty.

…

…

_Thanks so much for reading, obviously the Harry Potter stuff will start in the next chapter. Tell me what you think :)_


	2. Of Capture, Cloaks and Crazy Cultists

_Thank you for the reviews! What an amazing response :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. I realise there are many questions; they will be answered in due course through the story as it unfolds. I don't want to spoil things ;) Again, I want to remind you that huge liberties have been taken with the plotline, so please don't kill me. _

_Warnings: bad language and a little torture. _

_Chapter Two: Of Capture, Cloaks and Crazy Cultists._

…

…

On a dark, foggy hilltop, Death Eaters were gathering. Their cloaks shrouded their faces in darkness. A spell was being cast, a dark ancient spell that made the ground heave and the air growl.

A bedraggled lump fell on the earth, it might have been a woman once, her eyes were large and owlish behind a pair of round oversized spectacles, one of the eye glasses shattered. Her head bloody and hair mussed.

"I have brought you to witness your prophesy, Miss Trelawney." Hissed a voice.

The woman shook, her whole body trembling, and said nothing. Her head was bowed over her knees, wrists strung together with magical cord. She was gasping oddly, cowering in the presence of these dark cloaked Death Eaters.

"Repeat it." hissed the voice, wand steady and menacing in the gloom. "Let me hear it once more before your death."

"I don't remember," the woman choked out desperately, eyes wild and voice deep. "_Please_ – I beg of you… I can't remember it… _Please don't_…" the words melded together in a long string of unintelligible pleading, her eyes were wet and fearful. She had long been broken.

The man with the voice sneered at the spectacle, and from his wand tip burst a hellish light, catching the woman in the chest. She was dead before her bedraggled head hit the ground, wide terrified eyes open, mouth slack.

"Severus," came the calm hiss, "read the prophesy to me once more."

A dark hooded man, his eyes glittering the dark light, nodded his head once. And his voice was carefully controlled as he recited the words.

"_A trap he has laid for himself in choosing his enemy… the Dark Lord doomed to fail… an otherworldly weapon summoned under full moon's light, gives the power for one to prevail_."

As he finished his eyes flitted to the woman's corpse on the ground, and for a moment his face changed. But it could have been a trick of the light.

The spell was growing heavy and dank in the air, and the Dark Lord's lips curved up into a smile. They had captured this pathetic woman and tortured her for months before a new prophesy was made, it had disgusted the Dark Lord to hear her cowering away from him, utter drivel coursing from her lips as if it would somehow save her.

He had punished Severus severely, for even thinking that this woman was a true Seer. But she had succumbed in the end, a new prophesy was made as she hung suspended by her wrists from the ceiling, voice deep and echoing.

The Dark Lord knew a true vision when he saw it; he could feel the truth inside her mind as he probed with careful fingers.

It had taken longer to find and weave the ancient spell, and he had taken great delight in telling that pathetic woman of her imminent demise. A sacrifice to bring the Weapon into the World.

He would finally rid himself of that stupid, maddening, insignificant boy, Harry Potter.

He would claim this otherworldly power as his own and prevail.

…

Edward Elric was in a world of dark impenetrable nothingness. His thoughts were only of Alphonse. He hated leaving his little brother, and hoped Al would understand that this was the only way to get what they'd always wanted. He looked to his arms that had been holding his brother close to him, and screwed his golden eyes shut against the unfairness of it all.

Edward felt his arm, his precious flesh right arm returned by Alphonse, being hungrily ripped from him, and he had to grit his teeth to keep inside a yell of pain. Then, hot fire in his nerves as the automail reassembled itself, every screw and bolt intricately clicking and twisting, and long tapered metal weaving together, to form his familiar heavy grey arm.

And it was heavy, after all these years having it attached, he had forgotten just how heavy and cumbersome his automail really was. It wasn't until he had been given his true arm back that he realised the strain it had been putting on his body.

_Well, Al, I promise I'll find a way to get my arm back after I clean up this Gate business_, he thought, flexing his metal arm to make certain all of the parts were in place; he didn't trust Truth half as much as he trusted Winry's automail expertise.

When he came back to true awareness, it was still dark but there were now large grey shapes to be made out, looming in the gloom like figures in fog. Ed panted a little, rolling his stiff shoulder and kneading the stinging, throbbing port with his fist.

He was standing, red cloak flapping in the wind, in a – what was it? He squinted. Truth better not have dumped him in the middle of nowhere, ugh, it was just his famous Elric luck winning out again.

It seemed to be some crumbled ruins in the countryside, and for a tense second, he thought he was standing in the burned remains of his old house. But no, it was much too large and much too old. And the air smelt different; it crackled with an unknown energy – not the familiar pulse of powerful alchemy, but something equally powerful and yet unfamiliar, that left a lingering and distinct tang in the air.

As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he saw them. Figures in dark cloaks shrouded in the darkness. Ed's golden eyes flicked around him cautiously, and then he chanced a quick look over his shoulder, unease prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He was completely surrounded, but for the crumbling ruins.

Just. Damn. Typical. His feet slid into the familiar fighting stance drummed into him by Teacher. It had saved his life more times than he could count, and he wasn't about to be caught unawares by whoever it was that was sneaking around the countryside cornering unsuspecting innocent people like himself.

"That's no weapon," Sneered a voice, "He's nothing but a child." Ed faced the direction immediately, but the figure who owned the voice seemed indifferent to be under Ed's scrutiny. Edward could glimpse a length of white blonde hair under the dark hood of his cloak, as the man inclined his head slightly as if the sight of Edward amused him. He obviously didn't think Edward was a threat. Well, Ed would show that idiot.

Another voice, gruff, heavy. From the opposite direction. Ed swivelled his head around quickly, ponytail flapping. "Some great weapon, we should kill this whelp, he's nothing but an entrée." A husky laugh, and then laughter from all around him. Who were they calling a toddler barely out of nappies?! He widened his stance, perhaps a bit of acrobatics would show these idiots just what he was made of. He'd let them make the first move and then shit would go down.

He was weighing up the best point of attack in his mind, when another voice broke out over the snickering and sneering. It hissed, quiet and yet with so much authority that the others were immediately silenced. Despite himself, a shudder ran down Edward's spine.

"Do not underestimate him." Came the commanding hiss, "Bring him to me, I want the Weapon alive."

The order was cold and calculating, as if Ed's arrival here was planned. As if he'd been ensnared in a trap the second he'd set foot on this godforsaken world. But how was that possible? What the hell was this nonsense about a Prophesy? Damn that bastard Truth, it was bad enough Edward had been tricked into coming here in the first place, let alone being trapped the minute he arrived.

"Hey," he said loudly, and all cloaked heads instantaneously snapped to him, "Why do you guys you wear those cloaks? Too cowardly to show your faces or are you just freakishly ugly?"

It probably wasn't wise to draw all attention to himself, but Edward hardly thought he would have been able to sneak away from these guys, being completely surrounded as he was. Besides, he'd had a really crappy day so far, and if these goons wanted a fight, he'd sure as hell be glad to give them one. It would do him good to vent out his frustrations by cracking a few cloaked skulls.

He bared his teeth in a snarl as some of the figures started forward; they both looked and sounded completely, unreasonably hostile – and sure he might have insulted them a bit but they had definitely started it. Well he was more than ready to kick all of their butts, especially seeing as all they had to defend themselves were some thin pointed sticks which they were brandishing in front of them as if they were swords. He snorted at them, ready to make a snide remark about their choice of weapon when all thoughts of mockery were instantly whipped from his mind.

Ed rapidly realised he had taken the significance of these sticks too lightly.

A sharp blast of light erupted from one of them; it was only thanks to his quick, indoctrinated (thanks to Teacher) reflexes, that Edward wasn't hit. And if the sharp crackle of energy and scorch mark on the ground where he had been standing moments ago was any indication, he would have been nursing a pretty bad injury by now, if not be running around with his ass on fire.

As it was he managed a quick improvised handspring away and then legged it as fast as he could behind a craggy wall to the right, heart pounding in his chest as more beams of light shot his way. Damn it! He jumped over one crackle of energy, only to be nearly caught in the shoulder with another, having to duck and then roll quickly out of danger.

He gasped in a breath, crouching low, having finally made it behind the rocky wall. He had no idea what the hell that strange light was, and didn't feel like waiting around to find out. Time to make a speedy exit away from these weirdoes.

He clapped his hands together in a fierce echoing slap and slammed them to the ground. A dozen rocky, grass strewn fists erupted from the earth, and he smirked as he heard the surprised yells of those stupid strangers over the wall. A quick glance around his makeshift hiding place revealed that his well placed stone fists had knocked a few of those idiots out completely, and they lay sprawled beneath the towering newly constructed pillars of rock.

Ed snickered and made to turn away for a hasty retreat. But a face was there, right next to his. A face with red eyes, pale skin and a serpentine nose, like two slits.

"Enough." The snake face hissed, a dark smile curling his lips. "You have convinced me of your worth, Weapon."

A slender stick was suddenly in the man's hand and Ed's golden eyes barely had time to widen before he was caught in a burst of light from its tip.

…

The officers of the Amestrian military and friends of the Elric brothers were standing around a large intricate shining circle on the ground. They waited, barely daring to breathe as the blinding blue alchemical light slowly faded. There in the middle of the chalk drawn circle that Edward had so carefully drawn moments before, lay a small white bundle.

Silence fell. Some had expected a fanfare, a yell of triumph. a grinning Edward Elric, with his arm around his little brother, walking out into the sunshine. The two of them, whole again just like they deserved. But the circle was deathly still and much too quiet. What had happened?

Van Hoenheim let out the breath that he had been holding and stood up quickly, making his way toward the center of the circle, foot brushing out a section of it hastily to make sure it would not be activated again. The others watched him go, some with confusion and others with concern, knowing that the boys' father should be the first to witness the outcome of the alchemy.

"Edward?" Hoenheim called, but as soon as he saw the small bundle lying in the still smoking heart of the pale chalk lines, he knew that one of his sons had not made it back. He swallowed, eyes shining.

"Alphonse." He whispered, kneeling and carefully taking the bundle in his arms. It seemed Truth had covered his son's modesty at least, Alphonse lay pale and bony and wrapped in a white sheet. But he was breathing, and his heart was beating – his son was alive, in a living body! "Oh Alphonse."

But it seemed as though Truth had taken Edward as payment, the small boy was nowhere to be seen. Hoenheim felt tears prick at his eyes. Had his sons not suffered enough? They had been though so much and had not even been able to end their journey together. The sheet fell back a little, revealing Alphonse's golden hair and closed eyes.

"What is it?" He heard someone behind him ask, stark and loud against the stoic silence of the other officers. He recognised the voice; Colonel Mustang. The man was blind; he didn't know that Edward had not returned, he couldn't see the shocked sadness on the others' faces. "What's happened?" the man demanded with all the authority of a seasoned General.

A woman replied quietly, tears in her voice. And then the Colonel came stumbling into the circle supported by his lieutenant with the blonde hair and fierce sad brown eyes.

"Fullmetal?" The man was saying, blinking rapidly as if that would return his sight. It didn't look as though he was used to relying on others for information, but he held himself proudly. Back straight and face determined. "Where is he? Where is Fullmetal?"

"Sir," said the woman brusquely, but not without compassion. She had a hand on the Colonel's arm. "He didn't come back."

The Colonel closed his eyes for a moment. "… And Alphonse?"

A tentative smile. "He's here, he's… he's human. Edward did it, he brought him home."

Hoenheim could scarcely believe it himself, his youngest son was alive and had his body back – something which even he was not able to accomplish. But Edward had. His brilliant son had. "He's in my arms, Colonel." Hoenheim managed to say, "But he appears to be asleep."

"Lieutenant, call for an ambulance immediately." The Colonel pressed his lips together, clouded dark eyes solemn. His lieutenant nodded sharply and gave a quick salute before swiftly leaving through the throng of hushed military personnel. It shouldn't take long to find a military ambulance to care for Alphonse, the place was heaving with soldiers. "How is he?" asked the Colonel softly.

Hoenheim took in his son for the first time in too many years, his golden eyes memorising every inch of his young face as though he was scared it would fall away to reveal that cold metal of the armour. Alphonse was thin, bordering on skeletal, and his skin was much too pale, standing out harshly against his bright golden hair. But he was here. He was here.

Hoenheim laid a hand on that soft blonde head and sighed, "He's… Alphonse." He replied, feeling pride well up inside of him, "My beautiful son. He looks just like his brother, and has his resilience as well. He'll be just fine Colonel."

Perhaps it was because this man had recently been made blind that he didn't realise that every emotion he was feeling could be read clearly on his face. Hoenheim knew that others cared deeply for his sons, but he had rarely seen it expressed so openly.

There was relief, fear and concern in equal measure lining the Colonel's face. His eyes may have been unseeing but they still held a deep emotion.

"You cared for Edward." Hoenheim said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"I wouldn't say I cared for the brat," said the Colonel, attempting a grin that didn't reach his unseeing eyes, "but I knew him well, well enough to know that he would never leave his brother like this. The Fullmetal I know would have given up everything before his own life, in order for them to stay together. They've been through too much."

Hoenheim remembered Edward's face as he had clapped his hands together for the last time, illuminated by that ferocious crackle of electric blue light. There had been no sadness there, only determination. He did not look as though he would soon be leaving his brother; he looked as though he had a plan that could not fail.

The Colonel's mouth was a grim line, "He should be here, this isn't right."

Hoenheim may not have known Edward as well as his commanding officer, but he too knew the devotion between the two brothers. Edward had promised to bring Al's body back, true, but he would only give up his own life as a last resort, knowing that Alphonse would sooner die than live without his older brother by his side. It was a cruelty Ed would never allow.

"I think you're right Colonel." Said Hoenheim, cradling Alphonse's frail body close to his own and standing up as the blonde Lieutenant hurried back to them with medical professionals in tow, "Perhaps when Alphonse wakes up, he'll reveal what happened to Edward. But I do not believe for a second that my son is gone for good. "

…

Ed woke, blearily. The darkened room swung back and forth like a pendulum, and his brain pounded against his skull. Ugh…

His groggy golden eyes quickly assessed that he had been kidnapped. Most other people would have panicked, but Edward's mind immediately ran a mile a minute assessing all of the weaknesses of his confinement and plotting the easiest and most likely route of escape.

Despite his small number of years, he'd been in situations like this ever since he had joined the military; it practically came in the job description.

His mind took stock of his assets. Which were very few. He was manacled to a wall. His fists were snapped above his head and a bar separated the two of them, about a foot's width apart. Wait, that explained why the room was moving… it was him, swinging from the ceiling, his boots scuffing the floor. He planted his feet down firmly to stop the queasy spinning of his cell.

The bonds burned and sparked when he pulled at them, huh, maybe this was that weird energy that Truth was so worked up about. Well, he would see how it fared against his alchemy. He grinned, but it turned into more of a snarl as he pulled against the metal cuffs on his wrists and tried to touch his hands together without success.

"My Master knew you would try that again," came a sultry, ensnaring voice. Ed whipped his head around to the source, blonde hair flying. His braid had long since come undone, and his unruly bangs hung in his face.

There was a woman standing to the right in the shadows. What the hell was it with these people? Always lurking in the dark, skulking around the place, wearing ridiculous outfits, he huffed out an agitated breath, causing his bangs to flutter in front of his eyes.

"Look lady," he grunted, golden eyes blazing, "I have no idea why your creepy Master kidnapped me and decided it would be a good idea to manacle me to a wall, but if you let me outta here right now, I won't have to break your ugly face with my fist!"

And then suddenly she was flying towards him, with ungodly speed, dark eyes wide and terrifying. Face so close that Edward could see her slightly yellowed teeth glistening with spit, her beyond pale skin seeming almost ethereal in the low light.

"You _filth_! How dare you speak about my Master. How dare you speak at all!" and then she was holding one of those sticks in her hand, a dark withered old thing that looked as though it had been struck by lightning; coiled, twisted and grotesque. "Crucio!" she spat, and Ed bit back a scream.

Every muscle in his body clenched at the sudden pain and his back arched, manacles clacking against the stone wall as he shook and spasmed. He squeezed his eyes shut at the intensity. It was like having the automail surgery again, all of his nerve endings were on fire, the ports on his arm and leg sparked and a sharp stabbing, like live hot wires, shot through his shoulder and tore down his left leg.

Then just as suddenly, the pain stopped. And he was left gasping, hanging by his wrists, blonde hair stuck to his forehead, slick with sweat.

A wide feral grin filled his vision, those yellowed teeth baring in a way that could rival Truth's. He saw no compassion there, nothing but fevered enjoyment and a lust for other people's agony, and he realised that whatever mess he had managed to land himself in it wasn't going to be easy to get out of.

This woman was like a homunculus in her cruelty, and unless he got the hell out of these bonds, he was in for a really shitty day. Who on earth captured and tortured someone they'd only just met?

"No screams, _little_ boy?" The woman asked, fluttering her dark hooded eyes, "I love screams. I'm sure by the end of your _short_ life you'll be crying and begging my Master and I to stop. You'll scream until your throat bleeds."

Ed winced, not only because his body was still racked with tremors from whatever the hell had come out of that stick and hit him in the chest harder than an angry Winry with a spanner, but also because this evil woman had used the dreaded word.

Twice.

He clenched the fists that were suspended over his head, and despite the pain racking his small frame he felt the familiar anger bubbling in his chest and managed to let it out.

"Who the hell are you calling so little he can't even pay for his little brother with his body because he's not equivalent in size?!" he yelled, cheeks flushing pink. The ferocity of his yell causing him to swing back and forth again.

The woman barely flinched at the tirade, and instead her grin grew wider and she brandished out that stick of hers as if she relished the challenge in front of her.

"You shall be fun to break little boy, I shall enjoy watching you die when we have had our fun with you. Maybe I'll rip off those strange metal limbs of yours… maybe I'll cut off the other two as well, until you're nothing but a writhing helpless worm."

Looking into her deranged face, he didn't doubt that she would do just that if provoked. He wisely kept his mouth shut for once. He just needed to escape, that was all, get together a plan and leg it the hell outta here before this freak with a stick lopped off his remaining limbs.

"Bella, are you antagonising the Weapon?" another voice hissed. Ed lifted his heavy head, shaking it slightly to remove the sweaty blonde hair from his eyes, "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to dismember him just yet; he may need his limbs to perform."

Perform? What the hell? Ed glared at the newcomer, and realisation sparked in his golden eyes; it was the snake faced bastard who had knocked him unconscious. No doubt he was the ring leader of this band of freaks.

"Such defiance," hissed the man, tilting Ed's chin upwards with the point of his stick, "I must admit, at first even _I _doubted that the spell had worked, but though your body is that of a child, your eyes speak of death and sorrow and power. I shall soon break you, Weapon, and you shall answer only to me."

Ed rolled his eyes, these guys were so dramatic. But then, he supposed, that was always the way with crazed religious cultists. And there was no doubt in his mind that that was what these weirdoes were. Maybe they wanted him for some sacrifice or something; that would explain why they wanted him to perform for them. Watch the cripple dance before slaughtering him for their gods, yadda, yadda.

He'd seen it all before, and had taken down every last one of them with Alphonse when they had stood in his way.

The snake faced man continued, and Ed's irritation bubbled and frothed. "I have learned the hard way that nothing should be underestimated, least of all those who look the most _pathetic_. You may look like a _small_ _child_, but I shall control you, I shall break you, _little Weapon_."

Right, that was it, this guy had it coming! Edward knew full well what his captors were capable of when antagonised, and had no illusions that he would not be tortured for his insolence, but a little pain was never something to keep him quiet for long, and besides, his infamous Edward Elric temper had been stirred up into a tempest.

"Look pal," he ground out, eyes flashing, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I say we fight this out one on one! You won't be so high and mighty when my metal foot's kicking your ass!"

A small silence, those red eyes flashed in anger. And the man began to pace languidly around the small cell, each slow footstep on the cold stone echoed forebodingly, "You don't know who I am, do you, little boy?" he said in a calm voice that did not match the sharp ire in his eyes.

No, Ed didn't know who this idiot was, but getting called 'little' was really getting on his nerves now. "Can't say I've ever seen your ugly mug before, no," retorted Ed, "I would probably remember seeing something as hideous as your face; would give me nightmares for weeks."

A small beat, in which Edward was studied like a worm on a hook.

"Such insolence," whispered the man, "It amuses me." Funny, this guy didn't look amused in the slightest, and the air around him was darkening considerably, like a blossoming black storm cloud. "I am Lord Voldemort." He hissed, as if the name itself was enough to invoke fear and admiration, his red eyes shining. Edward had seen that look on so many people; it was the look of someone who believed they could do anything. It was hard and cruel and insane. "And you would do well to show me respect."

In spite of himself, Edward found himself shrinking back a little. There was something unnatural in the air around this man and he didn't like the feeling of it one bit.

"Never heard of you," said Edward, golden eyes locked onto those red ones. He was determined to show no fear in the face of this creep. In his experience, a kid standing up to a larger and more frightening enemy left them baffled, and made for a quicker and easier escape, "And if this is how you treat people that you've only just met, I can't see us becoming friends anytime soon."

"Enough of this insolence. You can attempt to be brave with your foolish words all you like, it shall change nothing. I know what you are, Weapon. I summoned you. And I shall take your powers for myself."

Okay, Edward thought, trying to calm his frazzled nerves, he really was getting creeped out now; Truth didn't mention anything about this weirdo. And the more time he spent with the man, the more he knew that he had to get out of here, or he was pretty sure he'd end up dead, promise to Al, or no promise to Al.

This guy was insane.

"I can smell the power in you, I can taste it. And I shall devour it, little boy from another world."

Ed nearly opened his mouth shock. Well, that was just peachy. Man, what a kick in the teeth. His secret was out already and he'd barely been here – what, half a day at most? "What the hell are you talking about?" Ed blurted out, trying his best to widen his eyes in innocence, in the way Alphonse was so adept at, and snorted softly, "You've kidnapped the wrong guy, do I _look_ like a weapon to you? And from another world, what are you – _crazy_?"

"With those false limbs. With those burning, strangely coloured, eyes. Yes, I believe you are a weapon from another world. Do not play games with me, foolish boy."

"Master," said the dark haired woman, her mad dark eyes glinting, "I can teach him how to respect you."

Thankfully, Lord Voldemort, or whatever his name was, shook his head once, with the air of someone who was firmly in control of the situation. Edward shivered. "There is no need." He said, a smile twitching at his pale lips. "I do not need you to tell me anything, little Weapon, I shall take it for myself. You shall learn to respect me soon enough."

He strode forward and that strange dark haired lady stepped aside in a flurry of dark skirts, her eyes trained only on the other man. Was that love or lust in her gaze? Either way, all thoughts were forced from Edward's brain as soon as this Voldemort guy's long spindly white fingers closed around his skull.

"_Hey!_ Get off me -" he started to snarl but then his golden eyes suddenly lost their spark, the light fading out of them like a pinched candle wick, and his head fell limply into Voldemort's hands.

And there were those red eyes inside his head, rifling through his innermost thoughts with cold slender fingers, as easily as if they were pages in a book. The Edward inside him growled and yelled and howled at this intrusion, but his body would no longer obey him.

_Edward Elric,_ hissed the man's voice, _I see all that resides inside your head. You can hide nothing._

He damn well _could_ hide it! He needed to get that bastard out of his mind - how was he even here in the first place? How was this possible! The dark presence was everywhere he looked, spindly black tacky chords like inverted gossamer hung from one of his thoughts to another, and more were weaving themselves towards him, a web of darkness inside his head.

"Get out! Get out! GET OUT!" he yelled, attempting to push the dark presence away, but Voldemort stuck fast, the darkness sticking and oozing like tar. The more Edward tried to push, the more his hands got covered with the shadows. They stained him like ink blotting on paper.

_Such a complex mind. Such horrors._

And his mother rose out of the dreary depths of his memories; her smiling face, her kind eyes that spoke only of love and affection and soft cuddles by the fire when he felt sick, of home and of little Alphonse, and then just as suddenly as the image of his mother had appeared, she was replaced with that twisted mess of flesh that he and Alphonse had resurrected. The glowing red eyes, the awkwardly bent limbs, the foggy uneven breaths as it tried to heave in a gasping wet breath. The pool of blood.

Edward backed away from it, heart thudding. Not this, anything but this.

_Such power._ Came the greedy hiss. _What I could do with such an immense talent._

Edward had had enough, he had expected nothing short of disgust and horror from this Voldesnake bastard at viewing these terrible memories; any normal person with a scrap of a heart inside of them would have cowered away from the images. But they had elicited nothing but a delighted hunger in the man's voice. Nothing but a lust for that gruesome power to become his own. It was sickening.

"It didn't work," Ed rasped, desperately trying to regain control of his thoughts as they slipped through his fingers like wisps of image-laden smoke, "It cost me nearly everything. No one should be able to play God!"

A laugh then, a mocking breathy sneer at his misfortune. The man obviously believed differently, and Ed felt a trickle of fear running down his neck. He had no doubt that this man would use anything and anyone to get to the top.

"Get the hell out of my head!" Ed shouted, viciously trying to wipe his hands clean of the darkness that stuck there, rubbing them desperately on the front of his red cloak. But the shadows held fast to his white gloves, spreading and clawing at him as if they were those terrible hands of the Gate.

_And what is this Gate?_

No. He couldn't let him see that!

To Ed's horror, the large stone Gate rose up next, but the memory was growing wispy and unclear; a smear of white and grey. He could see the childlike figure of Truth, as pale as a ghost. His grinning mouth was moving but Edward could not hear the chorus of jarring voices. He could read those words loud and clear though, "Mr. Alchemist." Truth was saying, teeth bared in a grin.

_An Alchemist. Alchemy. This is what you call it. It shall be mine. _

Then the image faded entirely and Edward opened his eyes blearily to the real world, mind unravelled and thoughts fraying, as though Voldesnake had pulled on a loose thread and his whole world had come undone. His head was so heavy he couldn't hold it up properly. Blood dripped steadily from his nose, running down and pooling in the crease of his lips. Dark red spots on the floor.

The pale spiderlike fingers withdrew, voice elated. "Enough for today. We shall continue tomorrow, Weapon. I wouldn't like to kill you so soon, when you have so much… _potential_."

Despite the fact that the shadows had now retreated from his mind's eye, Edward still felt stained by them. His golden eyes looked blearily up to his hands which were suspended above his head in chains, and could still see the darkness clawing at his gloves.

…

…

_Thanks for reading._


	3. Memories

_Thanks for the reviews! A lot of you have commented on how dark this story seems. Guess I never knew I had it in me! There'll be plenty of humour and hurt/comfort stuff later ;) Apologies for taking so very very long, I've finally got a job and things have been hectic. Also been writing a load of scenes way in advance and am now attempting to link them all up to form a story :) which is more difficult than it sounds! Okay, this plot is different from the books, but hopefully still makes sense. I've mixed up book Five of the Harry Potter series to suit my own ends. I thought I'd write some brotherly love between Fred and George to offset the loneliness of Ed. Poor guy. Happy reading!  
_

_Chapter Three: Memories_

…

…

Ed hung his head, eyes closed and jaw set. Those freaks had gone and left him on his own. It must have been about a day that had passed now, but he refused to fall asleep just yet. If his memories were invaded so easily when he was awake, there was no telling what could happen if he was caught unawares while sleeping.

Truth, but he was so tired… the toll on both his body and mind had been brutal, and he'd only just landed in this stupid world! Just his damn luck.

All he knew was that he had to learn some way to keep that bastard out of his memories. Thankfully this Voldy guy hadn't managed to find out how to make a philosopher's stone yet, and Ed wanted to keep it that way. He knew exactly what that madman would do with that kind of powerful information. Ed could still feel those tiny tremors of delight the man had felt when seeing that mutilated form rise from Edward's memories of the botched transmutation he and Alphonse had performed.

He had no doubt that even if the man were only to glimpse the sort of power the philosopher's stone could accomplish; he would be ravenous for it. Besides, the philosopher's stone was what all the crazy megalomaniacs that had previously kidnapped Ed had wanted; he hardly thought it was going to be any different with this new freak.

Huh. Maybe Ed could somehow redirect him? Try to think about something else, anything else, the next time that creep tried to get inside his head.

He snorted, for once in his life he felt completely useless. He couldn't even wipe his face clean and those idiots in the cloaks who had force-fed him never untied his hands once and had left his face and lips coated in drying flaky blood, a dusky reddish brown, the colour and consistency of rust. At least they'd let him keep his automail, probably didn't want to risk detaching it and not being able to stick it back in the port – something Ed was eternally grateful for. After all, this creepy ass Voldesnake guy still needed him to 'perform' whatever the hell crazy scheme he had planned, unless he somehow mastered alchemy with the few tidbits of information stolen from Edward's mind.

Ed wasn't even sure how it had happened, but one minute, he was hanging manacled in this cell and the next he was somehow trapped inside his own mind, being hounded by his own horrific memories that had been dredged up by the snake faced man who held Ed's blonde head in his cold white hands. He wouldn't have thought such a thing possible, but hell, he'd been sucked into worse places before. Gluttony's stomach for one. It wasn't so far a stretch of the imagination that Volde-whatsit could put himself inside Edward's head.

He'd been helpless to stop it.

Ed growled. He wasn't weak, damn it. He wouldn't let that evil bastard get any more information out of him. Sure, he had kept his mouth shut after that bastard had entered his mind, but the shock and pain of having gone through such an assault on his soul had been a little too much at the time for even the great FullMetal Alchemist to handle at once. He damn well wasn't beaten yet, just biding his time.

Now that he was alone and there was no sign of any more of those cloaked guys around the place, it was the perfect chance to test just how strong these restraints were and see about finishing that half-formed escape plan he had shaped haphazardly inside his head.

Ed squinted his golden eyes at the manacles hanging above him. His hands were kept apart by a long iron bar, wrists cuffed. Two long chains went from either wrist to an iron peg which was imbedded into the wall above him. The chains seemed to be the weakest point of his restraints, where the metal was thinnest. If he could somehow exert enough force on the chains to break them…

A spark of retaliation glinted in his eyes, a smirk pulling at his bloodied lips.

He lifted his feet off the ground, arms pulling taught against the manacles as he let his whole weight pull down on the chains. Crap – the manacles were cutting into his wrists, well his flesh one anyway. He grimaced slightly, clenching his mismatched fists around the chains and using them to climb up. One hand gripping around the metal links and holding his weight, while the other reached above and grabbed the chain further up.

They didn't even groan under his weight. He pulled himself up further, climbing the chains so that his booted feet were dangling above the flooring, arm muscles straining. Blonde hair slick with sweat.

The chains didn't even budge. Come on, he weighed a ton! Well, maybe not a whole ton, but with the automail he was pretty heavy despite his size. Ed kept climbing his chains as skilfully as an acrobat might scale a rope, until he was near the metal peg imbedded in the wall. The chains ended here, and he grasped both of them in his fists and planted his feet firmly on the wall, knees bent as he strained and tugged and pulled and yanked at the restraints.

The metal peg was wedged deep inside the wall and it didn't so much as jiggle.

Edward's conclusion – that was a pretty impressive muscular work out, but a really shitty escape attempt.

Damn, it was looking pretty hopeless. But he'd been in worse situations. Right..?

Well, he didn't have anything to draw with to make a circle. His hands were too far apart to be able to clap them together. And the manacles were too damn strong to break and too stuck in there to remove from the wall. He slid back down, letting the chains slide in his hands until he was back on the ground, the metal peg high above him, his chains pulled tight.

Edward hung, panting, in his chains, mind working over time as his boots scuffed the floor.

Stupid damn chains, stupid damn kidnappers, stupid damn world!

Well, it looked as though he was stuck here for now. But at least he still had an ace up his sleeve; these idiots might know about his power with alchemy but they thought he was only capable of it when he clapped his hands. Sooner or later they'd slip up, he'd be able to draw a circle and blast the hell out of this insane asylum.

Ed's body was exhausted, his mind was running around in circles, and it wasn't long before his head dropped, his knees gave way and he hung in his manacles, unconscious.

…

Severus Snape was inside the large, albeit quite cluttered, office of one Professor Albus Dumbledore. It was nearing the end of the school year, and the Headmaster's office was all the more cluttered for it. Books were stacked high in every available space, some of the covers lined with gold filigree and winking in the soft candle light. An assortment of odd trinkets and brass instruments filled up the remaining room, some spinning repeatedly, and others seemingly dormant until a large puff of purple gas erupted from them. Upon the walls hung the smiling and some sleeping faces of the old Headmasters to have come before, none quite as eccentric as the one currently in position.

Albus Dumbledore himself sat in the ornate oak chair behind his desk, atop a red velvet cushion. His robes were a brilliant maroon and adorned with small gold sequins along the cuffs, a gold belt and an oversized maroon wizard's hat perched atop his head. The headmaster was not renowned for his fashion sense, but held a keen and brilliant mind behind those half moon spectacles.

"Severus, you wished to see me?" he asked, a small smile almost hidden behind his long tapering white beard.

"Yes. It is a delicate matter; I trust we shall not be overheard."

"Ah, of course, Severus. This room is quite safe, I can assure you." A quick wave of his wand added yet another muffling charm on top of the other heavy-laden protection spells guarding the room. The Headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was one of the safest and most secure places in the world, mainly because it was the Headmaster who occupied it, who although not renowned for his ferocity, was certainly one of the most feared and admired wizards of all time. There were few who would dare cross him, let alone eavesdrop on his private sanctuary.

Severus stood in his long dark robes and dark boots wearing a forebodingly dark expression on his face under his dark greasy hair. The light golden atmosphere in the room was banished where he stood; as if he were a black hole sucking all of the light in. He looked rather out of place opposite the twinkly eyed Headmaster.

"I visited the Weapon." Severus spoke quietly. "Our suspicions were correct; he does seem to hold a great deal of power inside of him. However, his mind was a mess, Headmaster. I do not believe he will last long against any further attempts of Legilimency."

Severus had witnessed the prophecy made by the now deceased former Professor of Divination, Sybil Trelawney and had relayed the information to Dumbledore immediately. Much to the old man's sorrow, her death was inevitable, and there was nothing that could have been done to prevent it. Severus was their ace in the hole, and they could not afford to jeopardise his position, let alone risk him being caught sneaking out a hostage under Voldemort's watchful eye. They may have been able to get her body out with great difficulty, but her mind would have stayed forever within those torturous walls.

At least her prediction had been leaked to both sides, and Dumbledore was aware of this new threat or allegiance – he was as shocked as Voldemort was to find out that this deadly Weapon from another world was in the form of a young boy, no more than sixteen years of outwards appearance who, if Severus' sources were to be believed, possessed an otherworldly power of his own.

It was a strange and sad world that they lived in; where the fate of so many should burden those so young.

The news of the Weapon seemed to dismay Albus, who shook his head sadly. "Then we must think of some way to get the poor lad out of there before he succumbs. For all of our sakes. Sybil's passing was a great loss; and we will not lose another so soon." The world seemed to weigh down on his shoulders for a few moments, but his eyes shone with resolve. "We will need everybody in the Order on board; I shall arrange a meeting immediately."

"Headmaster," Severus sneered, "I do not think it wise to tell the Order of the Weapon's true identity. If Voldemort were to know that word has slipped out, there would only be the Death Eaters themselves to blame. My position cannot be jeopardised.""

"I understand the delicacy of the situation Severus. We know the location of the Weapon, I am sure we shall be able to get him out without too much harm befalling either party. We can explain everything to them once we all arrive safely."

Severus looked sceptical to say the least but he nodded his dark head once, "I will make the necessary arrangements." He murmured and left the office in a flurry of dark robes and a mood to match it.

…

Fred and George Weasley were currently experimenting in the basement of their newly acquired shop _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ in the prime location of Number 93 Diagon Alley. Having escaped the clutches of the Toad in Hogwarts, they had immediately put their minds to creating their new business adventure, something they had been cooking up since before they had first enrolled at the Wizarding school.

"These gumdrops," said Fred with an eyebrow quirked, "Was it -"

"Pineapple," replied George, not even looking up from where he was experimentally prodding a green jellified lump on the desk with his wand. Said lump was one of their many new-fangled trial sweets which, on the off chance that they got the ingredients down correctly, could make you sneeze sparks. Helpful for causing a ruckus, lighting fires, or setting your enemies hair alight if you were sat behind them in class. It was a magical fire that was created, and it would only go out when the sneezer felt like it. "It's the only flavour that combats that weird side effect -"

"Where your nose turns into a cucumber, yeah." Finished Fred. "Righto!"

"Though maybe…" George said thoughtfully.

"Yes!"

They grinned wickedly at each other. Both thinking exactly the same thing. Perhaps the whole turning your nose into a cucumber thing could be used for a new product line.

Their basement was a chaotic assortment of sweets, magical gadgets, large simmering cauldrons, strange glimmering instruments and of course, Fred and George themselves, who were currently wearing shirts that had the sleeves pushed up passed their elbows, their red hair stuck up in a manner of unholy angles, and their faces smeared with the proud mess of explosions from their many in-progress inventions.

Both of them wondered why on earth they had ever attended school in the first place; this was where the two of them belonged, right here in the pandemonium of discovery, together.

Of course they knew the real reason why they had stayed so long at Hogwarts, not just for their parents' sake – Mrs Weasley would have a fit if they had skipped out on school for no good cause, in fact she hadn't been very proud that Fred and George had nearly blown up half of the school with their fireworks and converted one of the floors into a swamp when they had left with quite a memorable bang. Though, once she had listened to reason – a rather long shouting match had ensued and the familiar scolding words 'disgrace' 'once your father hears about this' and 'disappointment' had been used frequently - she had finally come over to their side of thinking.

Honestly, it wasn't their fault that their education had gone down hill and their mischievousness had reached new heights; it was very unlikely that with that crazy toad bitch in power, which was bound to happen soon what with her new authority as High Inquisitor, they would have ever learnt anything useful at Hogwarts anyway. So they had left, before the Toad could entirely take over their adopted second home of Hogwarts.

You see, the twins had overheard that Voldemort had summoned a Weapon, and they planned to do something about it. The Order needed them, and attending school was the last thing on the twins' minds.

It was one of those long nights in Number 17 Grimmauld Place, where between Harry's arrival and Dementor scare and the slew of holiday homework, the twins had grown bored and had decided to find out all they could about The Order of the Phoenix, being the curious teenagers that they were. And it just so happened that one of the conversations they had happened to overhear, having had numerous failed attempts foiled by their mother's scrutinising eyes, was one in which Dumbledore and Snape were having a very spell-muffled, very secret conversation. The Twins had stayed awake and with their ingenious invention of the Eavesdropping Extendable Ears – new and improved, anti-hex edition – they had finally managed to listen in.

Voldemort had succeeded in summoning a very dangerous weapon, one that Sybil Trelawney, the sacked and kidnapped former Professor of Divination, had predicted. The twins knew, though they were destined for Hogwarts in a matter of days, that they would not be staying there for long. They would have to get out as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Voldemort was growing in strength and the twins knew they needed to prepare for the inevitable fight, something they could not do in school.

You see, the real reason they had stayed at Hogwarts was to protect their younger siblings, and of course, Harry. Although they had both done so from the sidelines, and sometimes for their own profit and well being. That stupid Umbridge woman was messing with their plans; as soon as she gained too much power they simultaneously decided that Hogwarts had ceased to be the optimum breeding ground for their schemes and had left in typical Weasley twin flair. If they could no longer protect from within Hogwarts then they would protect from outside and go after the real problem. Besides, they had their ways of getting back in if need be.

They had immediately become part of the Order of the Phoenix, much to their mother's sadness, and thanks to their ingenuity with their inventions, their skills with charms, and their sheer bloody audacity; they made a damn good addition to the team.

Although it did mean that they were called to go on missions quite often, but thus far they had managed to balance fighting Death Eaters with keeping up with their new clientele. And they loved every minute of it.

…

When Edward woke, he knew immediately that something was wrong. He should never have fallen asleep, never given those bastards a moment to catch him at his weakest.

True enough, as his golden eyes blinked blearily open they immediately focused on two red eyes in front of his face. He flinched back in surprise. Or tried to, but he found that his golden head was encased in those long spindly white fingers. He tried to pull back, but Voldemort held him firmly.

_I will find this brother of yours, the one who you hold so dear. Even in your dreams you call out for him. Poor little Alphonse. _Said those red eyes.

Ed's mind flitted wildly, he had been dreaming of Alphonse when he had unwittingly fallen unconscious. This utter creep must have seen the dream. He panicked for a moment, before realising that his dream had been disjointed and meaningless even to him; nothing of consequence had come up, Ed was sure of it. And that meant that despite watching him while he was sleeping like a deranged stalker, this bastard still hadn't learnt a damn thing about anything.

The relief bloomed in his chest like a soft rose.

_I will find him, Weapon. Unless you cooperate with me. _

It was meant to scare Ed; he thought that that one little sentence would make Ed snap. That the thought of Voldemort even finding his brother, no words of torture or cruelty mentioned, was enough to make Ed surrender. Despite the fear pumping adrenaline through his heart at a mile a minute, Ed couldn't help but feel a cocky smirk tug at his lips. This guy thinks way too highly of himself, he thought.

_Did you hear me Weapon? No one can hide from me. Your precious brother will be mine. I will break him. _

Edward almost laughed at that. Despite all of this crap, there was one thing he could fall back on in his despair. One thing that he knew beyond all else. And that was that this creep would never get to Alphonse. Alphonse was safe and as far away from here as possible. It was a bittersweet thought, but for once Ed was relieved that for once that his brother wasn't by his side, because it meant that he couldn't drag Al into this mess.

He allowed himself a small smile. Which turned into a grin, and then a harsh chuckle, punctuated by coughs that left him slightly breathless.

It was worth it to feel the unease of the man inside his head.

"You stupid bastard. You'll never get to my brother." Edward said resolutely, golden eyes bright. "Besides, he's more than equipped to kick your ass even if you could somehow find him." His grin was dark and bold as he raised those burning eyes to Voldemort's without a pinch of fear. "And so am I, that's why you're keeping me in these damn chains. You're scared of what will happen if you let me out."

As he uttered the words he realised that they were true, and his grin grew impossibly wide at the insight.

"You're terrified of me." Edward said.

Voldemort's red eyes blazed with an ancient anger, it looked like Edward had hit a nerve. This guy didn't like to be made to feel weak. Whoops. The fingers encasing his head tightened, fingernails digging into Edward's cheek and around the back of his skull through his hair.

And then Ed's mind burst into hot, unrelenting agony. He spasmed and bit his tongue until it bled. Ow, crap, when would he learn not to interrogate evil insane kidnappers?!

_I am afraid of no one, pathetic child. I am Lord Voldemort._

"Even monsters can be scared." Edward bit out painfully, teeth clenched and muscles straining. He refused to close his eyes against the hurt, instead glaring unblinkingly into his captor's face, "Sometimes that's what turns them into monsters in the first place. They're scared of losing, scared of dying -"

_You will be quiet, or I shall cut out your tongue!_

"What do you want me for anyway?" Ed growled, back snapping taught against the agony, the chains clanging against the brick wall, "If you're so high and mighty then why the hell do you need me?"

_I need no one._

"Yeah? Sounds like you think I'm more powerful than you!" Edward pushed, and pushed through the pain, gritting his teeth, mouth filling with the taste of his own blood. And then something snapped.  
His mind reeled in confusion at the sudden emptiness in his head.

Suddenly, impossibly, he was the one in control. The pressure on his mind was abruptly lifted; he felt lightheaded and free. A dizzying flurry of images came his way that weren't his own.

I'm seeing his memories, Ed realised dully. Whatever that creep did to me has been reversed somehow, that bastard's hold has broken!

Of course Edward Elric had absolutely no idea what he was doing, and was completely ignorant to the fact that he had inexplicably reversed the Legilimency spell that Voldemort had been using on him, but true to his character he carried on regardless.

In his mind, there were images.

There was a young handsome boy, in a dark billowing robe with eyes of soft blue and a dazzling smile. It was a reflection in a large ornate mirror with latin carved around the outside of it. No freakin' way was that this cruel bastard when he was younger, what the hell happened – where'd the snake nose and creepy red eyes come from?

A terrible, hideous, contemptuous hiss bristled into his head.

_How dare you defile my mind with your presence!_

And Voldemort was pushing back, furious and desperate, but Edward hung on like a leaf clinging to its branch in a storm. The gale howled and tore at him, but he dug in his fingers and rode it out.

"Why do you need me?" Ed shouted, over the violent roar of Voldemort's mind.

As if to answer him, another face rose up now, a small boy with dark raven hair and bright green eyes. With a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. This boy was associated with pain; Ed could feel the memory of it licking at the fringes of his mind. This boy smelt of defeat, of hate and anger, of desperation, of fear.

_Harry Potter_. Came the whisper of memory.

Voldemort howled and clawed.

"You're scared of a kid?" Edward shouted over the din, voice cracking as he laughed. "You want me to kill a little kid for you? Wow, and I thought you couldn't get any more cowardly!"

_You disgusting, insolent filth! How dare -_

But Ed didn't stop there; he fought for all he was worth. The Fullmetal Alchemist wouldn't give up this time. This evil bastard might have been able to kidnap and torture him, but he'd never ever break the famous Elric spirit. Edward kicked and punched and scrabbled for control, mouth in a firm grim determined line. He just needed to find a weakness, anything - after the torture his mind had been through Ed thought it was high time to return the favour and give this bastard a taste of his own medicine.

Just. Had to. Find a. Weakness.

He was rewarded with a steady flickering of bright memory, as though Ed were Voldemort himself, viewing it from his eyes. A locket, a cup, a ring, all falling from dead fingers. Ed blinked his golden eyes, a frown creasing his forehead as he fought to hold on. These flickers were haphazard and disjointed, seemingly bearing no relation to each other. All were from different times and different places.

However, from the rage and clawing and inhuman screeching coming from his host, Ed could tell that these images were important and he quickly set his mind on remembering each one as carefully as he would memorise his precious alchemical formulas.

A large hideous snake that reminded Edward of Envy slithered out of the memories next; it hissed and coiled around Ed's neck like a necklace, weighted and cold. It was so lifelike that Ed instantly shuddered at its touch, jumping back as he tried to throw the serpent off, but it quickly faded, smoke like, to be replaced by another image. A dark bound diary whose pages flicked as though they were being blown by a breeze, the white blank pages ruffling like feathers. This too faded into the dark. A crown like object that Ed supposed a wise king might wear in a fairy tale rose up out of the gloom, majestic and shimmering.

_Horcrux_. Came the whisper. And before Ed could even contemplate what the hell any of this freaky stuff meant, it seemed that he had overstayed his welcome.

Whatever luck that had started this strange turn of events had run out. The images flickered out, and with them any light that had been in this mind.

The claws found their way to his small form, encroaching on all sides of him as if he were encircled in thorns. Edward had never been inside someone's mind before, and Voldemort's, now that he was back in control, was terrifying. He felt as if he were the only tiny speck of brightness here. Lost and insignificant in this place of darkness. The hideous, twisted thoughts of his captor felt like real entities here, and they coiled around his limbs thick and sticking. There was no way out.

_FILTH! You will wish you had never come here!_

Ed already wished that. He had nowhere to go and was swallowed instantly by these gnarled groping claw-like fingers. They headed straight for his heart and for once in his life he couldn't hold back a scream.

…

…

_Kindly review. _


	4. Sweets and Sorrows

_Thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows, guys! They're so very greatly appreciated. I know you waited a long time, but I do have a life with a job and all other such boring things that get in the way of writing. I love the Weasley twins; I hope I did them justice. This was supposed to be a rough draft, but I got too impatient! :)  
Thank you so much to **Lightning Rain** for being an absolutely amazing beta; really helping me through this chapter, and sorting out some major issues. Thank you from the bottom of my bottom!_

**_Chapter 4: Sweets and Sorrows_**

…

…

Alphonse felt.

He actually _felt_ for the first time in years, he felt everything. He was warm and comfortable, there were sheets underneath him, a soft pillow under his head, and everything was touching him. The mattress underneath him pressed against his legs and back, the sheet above him was draped over his limbs and torso and to Alphonse it felt like silk; he had forgotten what it felt like to just feel. But something was nagging at him, all of the new sensations and startling feelings were overshadowed by something else.

Brother.

_BROTHER!_

He snapped his eyes open, hands instinctively grasping out to the sides of him for his brother, his Edward, who he knew should be beside him waiting for him to wake up, just like he promised he would be when Alphonse got his body back.

Only, brother wasn't there. Alphonse's golden eyes stung with tears as the view of the room he was in sharpened around him. His nose was assaulted by a million different smells and scents, so strong he could taste them on his tongue. The distinct chemical tang of a clean hospital with its harsh pungent disinfectants, a warm crisp smoky scent of fire, a soft floral note mixed with the deep smack of automail oil, an old smell like the worn, battered books his father used to own.

But he couldn't smell his brother, couldn't even remember what his brother had smelled like anymore. _He smelled like home,_ Alphonse thought, _and until he comes back I won't remember what that is._

Being in his body _hurt_. He had always felt emotions inside his soul, even when he was a suit of armour, but this physically left him reeling. His heart _hurt_, his chest felt like it was being squashed and the tears pricking at his eyes were stinging.

He _hurt_.

"Brother," he whispered, his soft voice barely managing the word, having not been used in so long in this body.

"Alphonse?"

The frail boy turned his head to the side, long golden hair tickling his neck, seeing for the first time that his father was sitting in one of the uncomfortable hospital visitor's chairs at his bedside. He couldn't remember his father ever looking like this before. He could see every fine line in the older man's face; feel the warmth radiating from that weathered skin. His warm calloused hand took Alphonse's frail one in his, with a look of such relief on his face that Al almost had to look away from the raw emotion there. His hand was so warm, his skin felt rough and firm and comforting.

It anchored Al to the room, staying him against the frantic swirl of sensations.

"You're awake, thank goodness. You're okay now; everything's going to be okay."

"Everything's not…" Alphonse tried to say, but the tears blinded him and closed up his throat, and he suddenly found himself overwhelmed. He had not been able to cry in his armour, and now he found an odd fascination in the way his tears blotted and warped his vision. He blinked and let them fall down his cheeks, the world becoming clear again. "It hurts." He admitted softly. "Brother…" a gasping sob, "_idiot…_"

"Sh, it's all right. You can tell us when you're ready. Everything will be okay." Another hand was smoothing back the hair on Alphonse's head and his mind reeled from the soft pressure. The feelings were too much for him, he couldn't handle all of this at once. He almost wished, for one stupid second, that he was back to his unfeeling suit of armour, so that he could sort through the mess inside his head. He stopped the thought almost immediately before it fully formed. No, he should never wish for that. Not when brother had given up so much to finally get his real body back.

He needed to stop blubbering; it was just so hard to stop the emotion rushing out of him when he had not been able to express it before. His body just didn't know how to cope.

"Dad," Alphonse said breathlessly, "Brother's not dead…" he felt the need to stress that point, because the Hoenheim in front of him looked as though he had lost one son already, and was on the verge of losing another. He had never seen his father look so emotional.

But to his surprise, his father only nodded calmly, eyes shining. "Shh, Alphonse, I know. Edward's much too stubborn to give up without a fight. Besides, his life for your body is not equivalent. The Gate would never allow such a thing."

"But brother… he's in danger…" Alphonse managed, in a tight whisper, "I can feel it. I saw it in his eyes, he thought so too, but he promised me he would come back…"

He did believe his brother would return. But that didn't halt the tears. It was just… this was not how he had envisioned getting his body back. In his mind's eye he had seen himself surrounded by smiling faces, tears of happiness, strong arms holding him securely, and Ed – brother was always there, his the biggest grin of all. His eyes would finally light up, that dazzling bright gold that he remembered from their childhood, that gold that had been growing more dull and sorrowful ever since that fateful day they had tried to resurrect their mother.

They were supposed to be happy, so impossibly happy. But when did life ever turn out that way for the Elric brothers? It had been too perfect a thought. And brother - Al nearly cried out at the unfairness of it all, while he may be back in his original body, Ed still had his automail – they weren't restored yet, weren't even together anymore. It made his heart ache like nothing he had ever felt before.

_I'll get your arm and leg back, brother. _He promised. _But first I have to get _you_ back; you self-sacrificing idiot brother of mine. _

Alphonse's eyes flitted around the room as he fought the tears back. Through his hazy vision, he thought he saw a silhouette in the doorway. Dark spiked hair and darker solemn eyes, the glint of metal on a shadowed blue coat. The Colonel..?

Hoenheim smoothed back Al's hair with fondness, bringing Al's attention back to him. Determination shone in his ancient golden irises. "Your brother does not break promises lightly, have faith in him Al. We'll get the whole story from you when you've had a chance to rest, all right? Now go to sleep. When you wake up everyone will be here – the doctors wouldn't let anyone else in to see you, except family. Winry nearly threw a wrench at my head."

Al smiled a little, he could imagine that. Winry would have thrown a fit not being able to see him; she was his big sister after all, if not by blood.

"Everyone was so worried; you and Edward have made some strong friends. They barged past the doctors to see you, but I'm afraid they were unceremoniously escorted out..."

Well that explained the scents in the room. He knew how Winry smelled; even when she was younger she had often dabbled in automail engineering. She always smelled a little like clean automail oil. It made his smile widen. Hoenheim had not looked away from his son once, his large contoured hand came down to cup Alphonse's cheek with a rare affection.

"I'm so happy that you're home." He said.

_But brother isn't here_, thought Al, exhaustedly, _and until he's here I won't be home._ But he couldn't say anything to his father, not when he looked like that.

"Now go to sleep, Alphonse."

And despite the turmoil in Alphonse's head, he was so very tired and he did just that. Dreaming of his brother, lost and chained in a strange world.

…

The members of the Order of the Phoenix were seated at the long wooden table in the downstairs kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place. The atmosphere was heavy and ominous and not even the cheerful new faces of Fred and George Weasley could lighten the mood, despite them bringing along their new invention for the Order to try out; a collection of nougat that could make the participant completely invisible for hours at a time. The twins blamed the lonesome mood on Severus Snape who sat forebodingly at the corner of the table, filling his surroundings with a dark impenetrable smog. He was obviously extremely uneasy about something, and the small thought made the twins much happier.

Albus Dumbledore arrived in a lick of green flames from the fireplace. Patting the ash from his maroon wizarding robe and shaking out his hat, the elderly wizard emerged from the fireplace with a small smile.

"Ah," he said, calmly, "I do hope I am not late. There was a slight issue of my having been arrested by the Minister for Magic, and I had to make myself scarce."

The Order members blinked in surprise before all manner of questions were blurted out in varying degrees of alarm, confusion and outrage.

Dumbledore held up a palm to halt the questions, "Now now, all in good time, my friends. As you can see I remain unscathed, there is no need for concern. I suggest we move on with the meeting. We have something very important to discuss." He sat at the head of the table and regarded them all with sparkling blue eyes. "It has come to our attention that Voldemort has succeeded in summoning a great weapon."

This caused a murmur of apprehension. Lupin spoke up. "What about Sybil? Has she…?"

"I regret to announce that Miss Trelawney was a casualty of the Dark Lord's summoning."

"Oh," gasped Mrs Weasley, eyes bright, a hand to her chest.

Lupin's eyes were downcast and his jaw tightened. It was similar for all of those at the table who had been teachers at the school; Minerva herself was pale-faced and Severus' mood darkened considerably. Sybil had been an innocent, a blameless soul and one whom they had worked with for years.

Even the twins looked sorrowful; they remembered guiltily how they had once charmed her crystal ball to play a terrible apocalyptic scene from a muggle movie that Hermione had once made them watch; the poor old bat had been screeching about the end of the world for days. She may have been barmy, but she was a good sort.

The table fell silent.

Dumbledore nodded, his mouth pulled down in sorrow. "It is a sad loss. She was - though rather eccentric at times, and on occasion unaware of her own true talent - a great asset to the Order and to the school, and she will be sorely missed." Determination shone in those ancient eyes. "However, we must pay our respects to her by honouring her last prophesy regarding the Weapon that Voldemort has summoned. It is an extremely dangerous article for either party to possess. We must retrieve it before the Dark Lord learns of its secrets, both in reverence to Miss Trelawney's memory, and to protect Harry." Here he gestured to the dark, foreboding figure at the end of the table, "Severus has volunteered to take possession of the weapon; the job of the Oder is to act as a distraction. Though we must do so with the utmost care."

Fred and George, the newest members of the Order grinned. "If there's one thing were good at -"

"- it's distractions."

They held up their box of sweets with renewed grins. The Order blinked at them a little apprehensively. You never knew quite what you were letting yourself in for when you agreed to be the guinea pig for one of the Weasley twins' infamous creations.

"These, my dear friends…" started George, theatrically.

"Are just the distraction you're looking for!" Finished Fred.

Mrs Weasley frowned, "Now boys, have you tested these out? You know how temperamental some of your inventions can be; just last week you blew up half of the second floor -"

"Mum, not in front of the new clientele!" whispered George, "and _of course_ we've tried them out. Fred spent the entire afternoon yesterday completely invisible to the naked eye and impervious to most counter curses."

"Is _that_ why all my clean laundry mysteriously dumped itself in the - "

George hurriedly ignored his mother, speaking loudly and somewhat boisterously in the style of a market trader selling wares, "Why, these make you so completely invisible that I doubt even Mad-eye himself would be able to spot you!"

The aforementioned 'Mad-eye' Moody growled from his stretch of the table top, and the surrounding Order members scooted away from him. "Nothing escapes my eye, boy." He said with an irate grimace, his mechanical eye swivelling eerily in its socket.

George's endearing grin only shrank a little. These weren't just some meaningless charmed chocolates they had decided to make one day on a whim, like the ones that made your hair blue, or your enemy's bowels lock up. No, these were carefully and strategically designed to help the Order with their missions; they were special and had been worked on tirelessly to get the correct result. They were never meant to be like the practical jokes that they sold in their shop, despite popular belief, the twins knew when to be serious and had devoted a great deal of time to developing ways to get the upper hand on old Moldyshorts.

Dumbledore let out a soft gasp of delight as he took the sweets from George's hands, his blue eyes crinkled at the edges as he analysed the small box of brightly coloured nougat. "My, how_ extraordinary_." He proclaimed. The Headmaster had always had a soft spot for sweets.

Fred and George's grins widened at the praise. And more than a few Order members groaned internally. It looked as though they would become guinea pigs after all.

"It makes you invisible for up to ten hours - if you don't eat the reversing nougat, that is." Fred demonstrated by plucking a bright coloured sweet from the box and swallowing it. Within a matter of seconds he had disappeared completely, even his clothes had disappeared – something the Order had not been anticipating. Though leading a group of naked invisible wizards into one of Voldemort's hideouts was not something they had ever wished for.

"Good Lord," said Remus Lupin, astounded, "how on earth did you two manage that?"

"Can't tell you," came the disembodied voice of Fred Weasley.

"Trade secret." supplied George with a grin. He brandished the box in Lupin's direction. "Go on give it a try. There's another effect that took even longer to work out which I'm sure you'll appreciate."

The former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor took out a piece of yellow nougat with some hesitance and popped it into his mouth.

He felt very strange, like a bucket of lukewarm water had been tipped over his head. It trickled down his spine and over his fingertips in a most disconcerting manner.

Sirius prodded the air where his closest friend had been with an amused finger, he felt resistance in the form of Lupin's shoulder. "Moony, you're bloody invisible." He said with a laugh, rubbing his stubbly chin in confused wonder, "Can't see you at all! Think of all the fun we could have had with these things back at Hogwarts! You kids'll make a killing with these; Filch would never know what hit him!"

Lupin was a little preoccupied in the aforementioned effect that George had mentioned, to acknowledge his friend. He looked at his hands; to him they were a soft pearly blue, like that of a ghost. But the startling thing was that he could now see the other Weasley twin, Fred, also pale blue and transparent, currently hunched under the table tying together the astounded Order members' shoelaces. He then reached up and attempted to pour a large glass of pumpkin juice over Severus Snape's greasy head.

Lupin reached in and remedied the situation, taking the juice out of Fred's disappointed blue hand and plopping it onto the table top before all hell could break loose. All eyes of the visible Order members followed the glass on its descent to the table as if it were cursed. Which was quite some feat, as these were veteran witches and wizards, used to inanimate objects suddenly growing mouths and bursting into spontaneous singing, or flying around the place as if they had just sprouted wings. To surprise them was to have created something -

"Absolutely _extraordinary_." Dumbledore said, clapping his elderly hands together.

Lupin took nougat from the other side of the box, this one a pale green colour, and ate it quickly. Being invisible like this was just plain unnatural, which was saying something coming from a werewolf. As soon as he was visible again, the pale Fred had vanished from his sight. He explained this phenomenon to the Order.

Mad-eye dipped his grizzly head in agreement, blue eye latched onto where the still invisible Fred was and tracking his movements eerily. "Looks like a damned ghost." He groused.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, as if it explained everything. Which to Dumbledore, it probably had. He smiled.

Lupin's thoughts, on the other hand, went a mile a minute trying to figure out just how the twins had invented something like this. They truly were geniuses. No one had managed the art of invisibility without utilising extremely rare items such as an invisibility cloak, or the disillusionment charm which did not make things fully invisible, more camouflaged – for example it had the odd effect of tricking the mind into thinking that a person-sized coat rack was completely feasible and not suspicious in the slightest. The spell could be broken easily if one knew where to cast the counter-hex.

Voldemort's hideouts were bound to be covered in such counter hexes and caused mere disillusionment to become fraught with danger. This did not seem to be a problem with the sweets, he saw Moody idly casting a few hexes and grumbling when they showed no results. Lupin himself sent a quick spell in the direction that Mad-eye moody's eye was pointing, at Fred, but the spell just fizzled out uselessly and hit the wall, seemingly going straight through Fred himself. For one moment, he was astoundingly glad that the Weasley twins were on the Order's side -

A glass of pumpkin juice upended itself over Severus' head.

- despite their incessant prank-playing.

A snort of laughter erupting from the air. Sirius nearly choked at the hilarity of Severus' deadpan expression as his long hooked nose dripped with orange liquid.

"Frederick Weasley, sit back down this instant!" screeched Mrs Weasley.

"Now now, no harm done, Molly." Dumbledore sent a quick cleansing spell at Severus, and the juice disappeared completely. Severus' expression didn't change, but everyone had a feeling that Fred's comeuppance would be swift and deadly. "However," continued Dumbledore, in a more serious tone, "I'm afraid the time for japes and sitting around has passed, we need to move out immediately. Minerva, I must ask you to look after the school in my absence, if you would be so kind."

"Of course Headmaster," said Minerva, lips pursed at the thought of that hideous Toad woman she would have to deal with.

"Sirius, as always my dear friend you must remain here with Molly."

Sirius grunted. He carefully sneaked his hand into the nougat box to steal a few for later. With these sweets no doubt he could finally get the hell out of this dreary house, and not even have to be in the form of a dog. It was a godsend.

Dumbledore placed the remaining Order members who had agreed to go on the mission into groups of two of three, so that if any harm befell one of the members they could quickly be apparated away.

And so it was that the Order of invisible, and not naked, wizards advanced on the large stone fortress containing this strange otherworldly Weapon, wands gripped tightly in anxious fingers. Obviously the Death Eaters had many hideouts, some abandoned, and there was no guarantee that Voldemort himself would be inside this one. But even so, the Order couldn't help but feel a collective cold weight in their stomachs at the thought that the Dark Lord could be near.

The fortress, it could be called that due to its size alone, the rocks it was made out of being incredibly old and covered in snaking vines and yellowed lichen, lay ahead of them, woven with charms and hexes that Dumbledore himself had spent a great deal of time carefully breaking through before their arrival.

The plan was simple, the Order would cause havoc within the building, staying alert and avoiding being seen. They needed to cause a large enough distraction on the lower levels in order to draw all of the Death Eaters to them, and allow Severus to enter into the upper floors and retrieve the Weapon. This wasn't an invasion; it wasn't a fight against the Death Eaters. They were simply not ready to take them on, this was a retrieval mission and there were to be no casualties.

It all sounded incredibly simple. On paper. Severus should be able to infiltrate the Weapon's cell easily, having already been there and been able to get past the spells on the door. Furthermore, his presence there would not out of place. The Dark Lord himself had ordered Severus to try his hand at making the young boy locked in chains talk, as Bellatrix's torture had numbed the captive into a subdued state that was good to no one.

However, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Severus would be severely punished when the Weapon was discovered to be gone. And a deep respect was heavy in all of the Order's minds for the turned Death Eater.

Their party consisted of a mismatch of Order members, Nymphadora Tonks and Shacklebot, Lupin paired with the Weasley twins, Dumbledore himself who was leading the operation, and Severus who was alone in his dark cloak, the only one visible to the naked eye as he stalked up to the tall shadowed edifice ahead of them.

…

The elder Elric brother was unconscious.

He did not feel the blood running down from his nose and eyes, and onto his lip. He did not hear it as it made its way down his chin to steadily drip onto the grizzly mess of floor. He did not feel his feet scuffing the ground as he swung monotonously backward and forwards from his chains like a dead animal speared on a hook. He did not feel anything.

_**Brother… wake up. You promised you'd come back home. You promised.**_

The voice echoed inside his head, so achingly familiar.

_**Wake up, brother!**_

Edward hung, lifeless in his chains and made no move to follow the voice's pleading. The voice let out a long-suffering sigh, as if used to this sort of behaviour.

_**Brother, now you're just being lazy! I know you can hear me.**_

The figure of Edward Elric didn't stir, but inside his mind something did.

… _Al? _Ed thought, tentatively. As if afraid that even acknowledging the voice would cause him to wake up and face that world again. To his relief he still felt nothing, body hanging like a corpse in a noose.

_**Of course it's me, brother. **_Alphonse sounded exasperated. _**You have to wake up now. Honestly, how will you ever get home if you're stuck inside your own head?**_

He knew that. _I… I know, Al. But I don't want to wake up. _Ed admitted, softly. _It doesn't hurt in here. I can't feel anything for once, I…_ He trailed off uncertainly. What… what had he been doing? Where was he?

He couldn't remember; his mind was a mess and every thought that he had flitted like a shadow through his head, uncatchable, as if he were chasing after it with a candle. The only thing he could hear clearly was the voice of his little brother Alphonse. But he knew somehow, with a clench of sorrow, that Al wasn't really there at all.

_**You've never been afraid of pain before,**_ said his Alphonse, _**you've always fought through it and made it out even stronger. What would Teacher say if she saw you now?**_

Ed didn't even want to think of what Teacher would do.

_**How do you even get into these situations? I swear you just go looking for trouble.**_

_Hey! _Ed would have put his mismatched hands up in defence if he hadn't been stuck within his own mind._ It wasn't my fault this time Al, I swear! I got caught off guard, and this freaky creep keeps trying to get into my head –_

_**You can tell me all about it Brother, when you get home. Now wake up. My brother is not a coward, and he promised me he would come home. **_

The figure of Edward Elric twitched, a frown creasing his brow. Inside his head, Ed rolled his eyes. _You're not even here Al,_ he thought with a huff, _and you're still giving me a much needed kick up the ass._

_**Someone has to, **_said Alphonse. Edward almost heard the smile in the echoing voice_, __**I'll always be here, brother. Someone has to point you in the right direction; you're pretty hopeless without me. Now, wake up.**_

His little brother's voice was growing tinny and small and Edward knew he was could feel the pins and needles in the fingertips of his left hand as the cuffs dug into the flesh of his wrist; smell the iron tang of blood in his nose. Ed collected himself, and with great effort, teeth gritted, body weak, he managed to crack open his eyes.

Ow.

He had to get out of this hell hole, or these freaks were finally going to break him, and not even his inner Alphonse would be able to pull him out of his head then.

A harsh rattling cough erupted from Edward's dry throat, and left him breathless for a minute or two, dark splodges were eating away at his vision and he shook his head rapidly to clear them. As he did so, his large golden eyes focused on something small and unimposing on the floor.

Was that..?

That hadn't been there before. A dry grin broke out over his face, like a crack in a porcelain vase.

Those jerks had left a cup of dirty water on the floor, obviously in a cruel attempt to taunt him with it. They knew however he tried that there was no way he would be able to pick up the water to drink it. Ed's mouth was dried out and tasted of flaking metal, but he had never been so glad to have this water within kicking distance.

Those idiots, they didn't know what they were dealing with

He swung up on his chains, lifting his feet from the ground, and managed to knock over the small cup towards him with the hard heel of his boot. Ha! He knew those platform boots would come in handy, they weren't just for fashion, or… boosting his stature.

The muddy water ran over to the left side of him in a dark stream and trickled to the wall.

Perfect.

He stopped swinging and carefully laid his booted feet on the floor. With the toe of his boot he painstakingly drew a transmutation circle on the floor with the water. It was tricky and he had to act fast, water was not the easiest of materials to work with and tended to dry quickly. He was glad the floor was dirty as it helped to keep the circle in place, no wet running lines that could prove disastrous. His dry tongue poked out in concentration, golden eyes vibrant.

There, a simple change of pressure, it should be enough to break apart the wall behind him as well as the floor he was standing on. He took a triumphant breath and grinned. The transmutation activated under his booted feet, casting a bright flash of blue on his manic face. The wall cracked, the large metal pin dropped and narrowly avoided his head, but that was the last thing that was going through Ed's brain right now; the floor had collapsed out from under him and he was falling in a pile of rubble, metal chains clanging.

"Aaaack!" he yelped.

Little did Edward know that his escape was extremely ill-timed.

He coughed and spluttered at the debris, managing to somehow get to his mismatched knees and scramble into what he thought was the location of the hole he had just made in the wall.

A dark figure in a black robe loomed above him out of the shadows. Oh _shit_, Ed tensed; he couldn't let himself be caught! Not when he was so damn close to getting out of here, he couldn't take anymore or this, he had to get out. He was so close to getting back to Alphonse.

_Calm down!_ He shouted inwardly.

Edward could just make out a head of greasy black hair and a hooked nose in the grime. He darted backwards into the rain of still falling dust and stone. All right, so he hadn't been spotted yet. But holy shit, _crap_, what did it take to get rid of these guys? He just wanted to go home.

The figure seemed agitated; well Ed supposed any of these creepy guys would be a bit miffed at finding a gaping hole in one of their cells and their prisoner gone. _Heh,_ Ed grinned devilishly, _time for this idiot to have a little nap._

He got up as quietly as he could, being mindful of the chains on his wrists still dragging on the floor. The figure was advancing, toeing a few loose rocks out of the way with a dark pointed boot and flexing his stick carefully at the still dusty air as if he suspected that something was going to come storming out of it. Ed slunk back against the wall, heart beating oh so fast.

The figure turned to look around, he knew something was there. But the creep was looking in the wrong direction. _Good for me,_ Ed thought viciously. And then, gathering his last vestiges of strength, he took a running leap, and roundhouse kicked the cloaked stranger in the face with his automail foot.

He heard a crunch as his foot impacted, blood erupted like a fountain from the guys hooked nose, and he was down like a sack of rocks. _Out for the count!_ Ed took in a victorious shaggy breath; he would have laughed aloud if he had the air to do so, instead he decided to run away as fast as he could as if the gate of Truth were snapping at his heels, his chains whipping behind him.

Severus Snape groaned from his position on the floor, it seemed the rescue attempt had backfired somewhat.

…

…

_Things have not gone quite according to plan. Please review with your thoughts, in the next chapter things take an even worse turn…_


End file.
